


Let the Flames Begin

by dadsinc



Series: The City Is At War [2]
Category: EXO (Band), GFriend (Band), Gugudan (Band), VIXX
Genre: Dystopia, M/M, PWP, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 15:20:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8290733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dadsinc/pseuds/dadsinc
Summary: They live one day at a time in a metal shack slash bomb shelter slash makeshift hospital, trying to save as many destinies as they can without getting their asses busted by the government.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Let the Flames Begin by Paramore.  
> Thanks to M for being my saviour <3

There's no difference in the temperature outside and inside, Hakyeon notices dreadfully as he climbs down the hatch on the backside of the shack that's painted in dark greens and browns to fit in with the forest. Hakyeon is rather proud of how it turned out in the end, going from a navy blue to a backdrop of the forest surrounding it. 

It's a narrow fit, climbing down the dark vent with thick metal walls around him, he can't really move to any side without brushing against metal. It had been claustrophobic at first but it's something you get used to after climbing down it several times a day. 

They have an additional door into the shack, on the other side where they let injured runaways in but Hakyeon prefers to use the hatch. It feels safer somehow and if anyone were to follow him, they'd just see him vanish in a couple of bushes. Several of them have been tracked and traced but the shack has always saved their asses, fortunately. 

Hakyeon isn't tracked now, as far as he knows, but then again, better safe than sorry. 

A heavy, metallic noise rings up through the hatch as Hakyeon plants his boots firmly on the floor, hands fumbling for the tiny opening that leads him out into a barely-lit hallway. Like the shack itself, it’s made out of metal painted in different colors to make it look more cheerful. Hues of green, yellow, blue, pink greet Hakyeon as he follows the hallway towards the sound of voices. He has been walking through this hallway so many times he could probably walk it while asleep. 

The hallway ends up in a bigger room that Hakyeon knows leads to even more corridors and hallways; they’ve got a huge underground hospital of sorts here. There are arrows painted on the wall in bright, cheery colors to brighten up the atmosphere, seeing as it’s underground in a dim, badly lit metal shack. Hakyeon himself had painted some of them.

The air inside is as humid as it was outside. The white cotton-blend fabric of Hakyeon’s t-shirt is sticking to his back despite Hakyeon’s numerous attempts of pulling it away, separating the fabric from his skin. 

Hakyeon follows the sign that says _Clinic Room 3_ and walks down the next hallway too with familiar steps. The muffled sound of voices grows stronger and clearer; Hakyeon recognizes one of the voices. 

All the clinic rooms are similar; metal walls as the standard of the shack is, but these ones are painted ivory. Taekwoon will argue with him and say _cafe latte_. Anyways they’re a shade of white. The floors too are painted white, and they have drains in the floor. It’s not easy to keep it as clean as the hospitals in the government controlled zones but they _try_. They clean the room multiple times daily, mostly with chlorine, and whatever else Kyungsoo’s boys manage to get them from the government controlled zones. It’s not perfect but it’s what they have right now. 

Taekwoon sits, as per usual, perked on his stool in the middle of the room, long legs entangled with the feet of the chair, ankles crossed. His back is hunched over in a way that Hakyeon knows will make his back start to ache soon, if it isn’t already. Taekwoon doesn’t look up at Hakyeon when he enters the room but the young girl he’s tattooing does. 

The sound of Hakyeon’s steps; the thick soles of his boots makes deep thuds as he walks towards them, cutting through the lulling buzz of the tattoo machine. She’s very pretty, coiffed, a typical government girl. There aren’t many rural zone girls who wears dresses these days, especially not cotton and lace. It’s a bit torn and dirty. Hakyeon wonders what her story is. He doesn’t ask; he never does. Instead he settles for smiling at her, greeting her with a gentle ‘hi’. Gentle not just for her, but as not to startle Taekwoon. When he’s tattooing he’s very concentrated and would probably not notice the entire building collapsing – it’d knock him out before he’d notice. 

She’s seated on a padded chair that’s lifted higher than the tattooer’s stool so the tattooer won’t damage his back when tattooing. Taekwoon hasn’t adjusted it to his height, Hakyeon can tell because of the hunch of his back. Her dress is hiked high up on her thighs, a towel covering her pelvis as Taekwoon inks over the barcode high on her thigh. 

When the government started to introduce barcodes to keep track of the population, they had a set space for it; on the left wrist. However, people started to complain: it wasn’t easy to hide and it wasn’t at all pretty to look at. The people felt like slaves; which they technically were, still are, but the government complied and let people get their barcodes where they wanted on their body as long as it was easily accessible. 

The barcodes are highly advanced pieces of technology; tiny computer chips filled with information mixed in with ink, embedded deeply in the skin of the person. During the year Hakyeon and Taekwoon have been running this place they have seen a lot of barcodes on places that are common and not so common. Nothing really surprises them anymore. Inside the barcode are information unique to the person carrying it: name, date of birth, height, occupation, address. It’s also a tracking device which is why the people escaping from the government controlled zones to the rural zones need to get them out of function, so the government won’t find them. 

It’s not enough to merely cover the barcode with new ink; you need to destroy the data chips that’s inside it, nestled safely under layers of skin. They have an ink and computer chip mix of their own which neutralizes the government’s information and makes the barcode useless. It’s not necessary to cover it with another tattoo but most people choose to do so. 

Taekwoon is finishing off the tattoo on the girl’s thigh; an eagle. Not quite what Hakyeon would picture her choosing but whatever floats her boat. Hakyeon fetches the saran wrap and anti-bac as well as a few packets of lotion for the healing tattoo. By the time he returns, Taekwoon is done, wiping off the excess ink with a wipe, talking to the girl in his soft voice. 

“Is it okay?” Hakyeon hears Taekwoon ask her as he takes the saran wrap Hakyeon hands him quietly, but not without looking at Hakyeon in a way that makes Hakyeon’s heart speed up. 

“It’s perfect,” the girl beams at Taekwoon as he wraps it up gently. Hakyeon easily notices how his shoulders relax a bit. Taekwoon runs the general tattoo care by her, telling how it’s important to keep the wrap on for another 24 hours, maybe longer if she plans on continuing through the forest. Taekwoon finishes his monotone speech before Hakyeon takes over.

“Do you have any place to stay? Anyone to be with?” he asks her kindly. “If not you can stay here, we have lots of rooms availiable, even though they’re intended as hospital rooms.”

“Thank you, but I have a place to stay. There’s an B&B, I bet you’ve heard of it?” she says, smiling gently at them both. 

“A friend of us runs it,” Taekwoon says, removing the tip of the tattoo pen, eyes flickering up from it to Hakyeon and the girl. “Kyungsoo.” 

“I’ve heard of him,” the girl says. “I have a couple of friends living there right now so I’m going to meet up with them now.” 

“Well, the offer always stands. The doors here are always open for you- “Hakyeon gently prompts.

“Soyee,” the girl says, tilting her head in a cute manner. She’s really cute, Hakyeon feels like he could adopt her like a child, or possibly a younger sister. 

Soyee bids her goodbyes, but not before Hakyeon and Taekwoon both have made sure she knows how to get back to the B&B and that the door to the hospital always is open for her. 

“Did she come with the two other girls?” Hakyeon asks Taekwoon a little while later while they’re sterilizing the chair and the equipment. 

“With Sowon and Shinbi?” Taekwoon asks, which Hakyeon hums affirmative to. “No, she came a little bit later, maybe 30 minutes or so.” 

Hakyeon nods. 

“I was offering them to stay too, but I think they were meeting up with Jongdae so I think they’re safe,” Taekwoon says in that quiet voice of his, placing his tattoo gun on the padded surface of the table, all clean. 

“Jongdae will look after them, don’t worry,” Hakyeon murmurs, slipping under one of Taekwoon’s bare arms, wrapping his own arms around Taekwoon’s waist, squeezing. Surprisingly enough, Taekwoon lets Hakyeon hug him, lets him stand close to him, Hakyeon’s front pressed against Taekwoon’s side. Even though they have been together for a couple of years, touching still has to happen on Taekwoon’s premises, some days they’re very touchy, with Taekwoon initiating, and other days they barely touch at all and that’s completely fine with Hakyeon. 

Taekwoon curls his arm around Hakyeon’s shoulder, long fingers curling under Hakyeon’s jaw, gently tilting his head so he’s able to rest his cheek on top of Hakyeon’s head. Their skin is sticky from the heat, clinging to each other where they meet. Taekwoon’s black tank top is moist with sweat and while Hakyeon probably should find it disgusting, he doesn’t. His own shirt is wet with his own sweat. 

“All these young kids. I just want them to be safe.” 

Taekwoon’s voice is a mere whisper but Hakyeon hears him clearly, feels the vibrations from Taekwoon’s throat. Hakyeon squeezes him again, leans in to brush his lips against his throat, briefly tasting salt, feeling the soft throb of Taekwoon’s pulse through his lips. 

“Jongdae _will_ look after them, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon says softly, letting one hand trail up Taekwoon’s side in what he _knows_ is a comforting matter. He smiles gently when he feels Taekwoon shudder under the palms of his hands. “Besides we all used to be young kids once, remember? We managed and so will they.” 

“Besides,” Hakyeon continues, resting his cheek on Taekwoon’s shoulder, looking up at him. “You told them that they could come and crash here whenever they want. I’m sure they’ll remember it. Our doors will always be open, especially to the young.” 

-

Sometime later when the sun is lower on the sky and darkness is creeping into the woods, Hakyeon is seated in front of a computer, writing in new codes for a couple of chips that Taekwoon are going to tattoo into the skin of a client the following day. They’ve distributed the work between them; Hakyeon deals with all the coding and creating of the new chips and Taekwoon does the tattooing. It works nice seeing at Hakyeon _can’t_ draw and thus tattoo to save his life, and Taekwoon barely knows how to turn on a computer. It’s perfect. 

Hakyeon pushes his glasses up the slope of his nose. They’ve slowly slid down. Technically they aren’t even Hakyeon’s glasses, but they don’t make his head hurt so Hakyeon has deemed them useful, having discovered them when they had searched through one of the abandoned hospitals a couple of hours away. Back when they had transformed this bomb shack into a decent hospital slash tattoo studio, Hakyeon and Taekwoon had gone on trips to hospitals in the area, all of them abandoned after the apocalypse; the nuclear explosions that happened in the rural areas of the world. Most of the hospitals were destroyed beyond recognition, so Taekwoon and Hakyeon had to climb into the ruins, almost getting killed a couple of times. 

The hospitals and some of the other important buildings like old libraries, schools are also under surveillance by the government, even in the rural zone. To this day, three years after the government destroyed great parts of the Earth, they’re still sending drones and small groups of high class soldiers out in the rural zones to find, capture and sometimes kill the people they find. Hakyeon can’t count how many times they have had drones close to the hospital. Thankfully no one have found them yet. 

The government wants control of all the remaining citizens of Earth, and thus they came up with the barcodes. It’s genius, Hakyeon has to admit. You brand your citizens with a type of I.D. they have to wear at all time because it’s permanent and it contains all the information the government could ever want to know about their citizens. It’s scanned multiple times a day, when you enter and leave your workplace, buy food, use public transportation. The list is endless and Hakyeon only knows _some_ of the barcode’s usages even though he worked on the barcode project himself for almost four years. 

Hakyeon had gotten out close to the nuclear bombings, having realized what the government was about to do and decided he didn’t want to play a part of that. On the run he had met Kyungsoo and then later Taekwoon and the rest is pretty much history. 

“-yeon, Hakyeon.” 

Hakyeon’s deft fingers run over the keyboard, coding the base of the chip – a part that’s identical in all chips, a part he knows by heart. It’s the I.D. parts that are the most difficult as you have to make codes that will display the picture of the carrier perfectly, especially when you’re just _changing_ the code, if the carrier wants to still be able to enter the government controlled zones. Destroying the chips completely is not a big deal; Hakyeon has a default file for that, which he prints into the chips that’s going in the ink, in the tattoo. It’s altering identification that’s the most difficult. 

Warm palms are placed on his shoulders, long fingers gently curling against his bare skin as Hakyeon jumps ca five foot up in the air. He’s ready for a fight; adrenaline punching through his veins, his heart leaving a permanent imprint on his ribs. 

Black hair, kind, brown eyes and broad shoulders.

It’s just Taekwoon.

“Taekwoon, you scared the shit out of me!” Hakyeon snaps, placing his hand on his own chest, trying to calm himself down. They have alarms and a surveillance system that should keep their _enemies_ out, Hakyeon knows, but it’s difficult to relax completely in a world like this. 

Taekwoon’s eyes are so very gentle, a soft gleam in them that makes Hakyeon calm down in seconds, his insides fluttering. 

“I’m sorry,” Taekwoon says earnestly, crouching down, placing both his hands on Hakyeon’s clothed knees. “But I did call your name six times.” 

There’s a curl to the right side of Taekwoon’s mouth, making him look terribly feline. He _is_ sorry, but amused, Hakyeon knows. And Hakyeon can’t fight the smile off his face even though he tries to. Can’t be mad at Taekwoon. 

“I was coding,” Hakyeon defends, laughs. “I didn’t hear you.”

“Obviously,” Taekwoon quips, squeezing Hakyeon’s knees tenderly, showing Hakyeon a flash of tiny white teeth. “I was just asking where the appointment book is, two boys just dropped by and wanted to get their barcodes removed.” 

In lieu of answering, Hakyeon runs his hands up Taekwoon’s tattooed arms; the left is more tattooed than the right, tattoos claiming his arm from the wrist and up to his shoulder, while the right isn’t fully covered yet; the tattoos ending just above his elbow. As Hakyeon can’t draw, can’t tattoo, Taekwoon tattoos himself. One of the perks of being ambidextrous, he had told Hakyeon while permanently inking colorful cartoon figures into the skin of his left arm. 

Taekwoon watches him, eyes lucid, but he doesn’t move, lets Hakyeon’s hands follow his arms up to his shoulders, throat, until one hand ends up curled at the base of his skull, gently fisting the hair there. The other hand cups Taekwoon’s cheek, thumb tracing over Taekwoon’s eyelid, his cheekbone. 

And then, gently, slowly, they kiss. Taekwoon’s lips are soft against Hakyeon’s. The short press of lips grows deeper, more intense but still gentle. Taekwoon’s big hands travel up, ending on the top of Hakyeon’s thighs, thumbs trailing up the inseam of Hakyeon’s pants. Hakyeon’s fingers tighten their grip on the strands of Taekwoon’s hair, pulling none too gently. The sensation makes Taekwoon gasp, his fingers tighten their grip on Hakyeon’s thighs; bruising. 

Taekwoon is the one to pull back first, but not without tugging gently on Hakyeon’s bottom lip with his teeth, tongue soothing over the marks. 

“You drive me crazy,” Taekwoon murmurs, looking up at Hakyeon with shiny eyes. Pride swells in Hakyeon’s chest, cheeks hurting as he grins at Taekwoon who gets to his feet. “I got to write down their names, you’ll make me forget.”

“It’s over by the tattoo stencils,” Hakyeon says breathlessly. There’s a soft blush to Taekwoon’s sun kissed cheeks; it gives him a healthy glow. He’s so _handsome_ , Hakyeon thinks as he watches Taekwoon head over to the other desk. The appointment book is a thick, leather bound book. It’s a scheduler given to them by one of Kyungsoo’s boys – Minseok. It was a gift from Kyungsoo. Hakyeon remembers fondly one of the first times Kyungsoo had visited them after they had finished refurbishing and painting the hospital, there had been yellow, pink and blue post-it notes covering their office walls. They were to keep track of tattoo appointments as well as important days. Hakyeon figures Kyungsoo’s OCD (Taekwoon’s words) got the better out of him and he got them the book. It covers five years at a time, so they’re not half way through it yet. 

Granted it’s written in _Anno Domini_ and not _Post Apocalypse_ that they have been using the past three years or so. Hakyeon had easily fixed it by scratching out the A.D. marks and replacing it with P.A. 

While Taekwoon scribbles down the dates, Hakyeon quickly saves his work and closes his laptop. He won’t get any more work done today, he’s too worked up. 

Taekwoon finishes quickly and before Hakyeon really knows what happened, Taekwoon is standing in Hakyeon’s space, the edges of Hakyeon’s desk digging into Hakyeon’s thighs. Hakyeon is held against Taekwoon’s broader body by Taekwoon’s hands, curled just above the swell of his ass, pressing him firmly against his body. Taekwoon’s mouth is on his again, and Hakyeon willingly opens his mouth for Taekwoon’s tongue, sliding his fingers into Taekwoon’s hair, pulling at the strands. 

Their hands touch, mark; follow curves and muscle of the other’s body that they already know like the back of their hand but still can’t get enough of. Easily, they strip each other out of their clothes until they’re left with skin on skin, feverish kisses and needy hands. There’s a bit of an interlude while they search, naked, for the lube that they used a couple of days ago; they find it in their bedroom even though Taekwoon swore the last time they had sex was in the office, where they are now. 

“Maybe,” Hakyeon manages to get out in-between kisses, both of them breathing heavily, Taekwoon’s slick fingers between Hakyeon’s legs. “Ah- Maybe w-we should shower?” 

It’s difficult talking when Taekwoon tries to occupy both his mouth and his ass. 

And thus they end up in the shower; Hakyeon’s back against the cold shower tiles, with Taekwoon’s warm body covering his front. Hot water is spilling out of the showerhead and onto their bodies, washing all the sweat and grime of the day away. Hakyeon _loves_ to shower with Taekwoon, loves the feeling of another body, Taekwoon’s body, with him inside the tiny shower cabinet. 

Taekwoon is _everywhere_ , relentless, never giving Hakyeon a rest or a breather. His mouth, when not kissing him, is brushing over his neck, his shoulder, leaving small bruises in their wake. Hakyeon _loves_ it. To be honest, Hakyeon is touching as much as Taekwoon is, hands roaming over his broad back, nails leaving little crescent-shaped marks scattered down his back. 

They’re both eager, like a couple of teens, only Hakyeon is louder, much louder than Taekwoon is. While Taekwoon is soft gasps, occasional soft-whispered phrases, words, love declarations, and once in a blue moon, a deep moan of Hakyeon’s moans. But that’s it, that’s Taekwoon at his loudest. Hakyeon, however, is a completely different chapter. Always loud, no matter what; the simplest touch enough to rip the loudest keens out of his lungs. If you could brand with your voice, Taekwoon’s name would be etched into many of the metal walls in the shack, and some of the trees outside. And a room in Kyungsoo’s B&B. 

Taekwoon is fucking three fingers up into Hakyeon, hot licks of pleasure exploding up Hakyeon’s spine, his entire body singing with pleasure from Taekwoon’s ministrations. They’ve been together for so long that this – sex – should start getting boring, repetitive. Instead, Hakyeon finds that he only gets more attracted to Taekwoon; every day brings him new sides of the other man to fall in love with. It’s fantastic. 

“Taekwoon,” Hakyeon gasps against the skin of Taekwoon’s neck that he has been panting against, both of them too out of breath for kissing. His hands scramble up Taekwoon’s arms, claws at his shoulders to get Taekwoon to stop until Taekwoon’s fingers nudges his prostate and everything goes white for a brief second. He’s not coming yet, but he’s close, terribly close and coming now is absolutely not an option. 

“Yeah, me too,” Taekwoon murmurs, pulling his fingers gently out of Hakyeon while Hakyeon grabs the lube from the shower rack, squeezes a generous amount in his palm before reaching down to slick up Taekwoon’s hard cock. Inhaling sharply, Taekwoon’s hands flies up to grab at Hakyeon’s hips, his long fingers sinking into his wet skin, his forehead coming to rest on Hakyeon’s shoulder. Soft puffs of air fans over the skin of Hakyeon’s chest as Hakyeon works his fingers up Taekwoon’s cock. 

“You’re so hard,” Hakyeon murmurs softly, to which Taekwoon’s response is a high keen, his blunt nails biting into the skin of Hakyeon’s waist. Taekwoon is hot and heavy in his hands, slick from the lube but also the precome, dribbling down the shaft of his cock, the head red. It’s a wonder he hasn’t come yet, Hakyeon thinks. 

“You’re so hard, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon repeats, this time, pressing his mouth against Taekwoon’s temple, speaking the words into his skin. Taekwoon makes yet another keen, soft, desperate. 

“Hakyeon,” Taekwoon whispers, chest and back rising and sinking rapidly. “Let me fuck you, _please_.” 

Taekwoon doesn’t have to ask, of course. 

“ _Yes_ , my sweet Taekwoon,” Hakyeon gasps, kisses him quickly before he circles his arms around Taekwoon’s neck, knowing he’ll follow. And of course he does; he’s there when Hakyeon jumps, wraps his legs around Taekwoon’s waist, Taekwoon’s hands grabbing Hakyeon’s thighs. 

Their gasps fill the tiny bathroom, both voices echoing off the white tiled wall when Taekwoon pushes into Hakyeon as gentle as ever. Wet noises of the slick cock entering Hakyeon’s slick ass are barely audible through the thrumming of the water hitting the floor and their moans. 

This is the only time Hakyeon allows himself to let go, succumbs to the exquisite pleasure of Taekwoon filling him up. Greedily, he’s absorbing Taekwoon’s soft pleads of his name as he fucks him, fills Hakyeon until every part of him is branded with Taekwoon’s name, as Taekwoon is with Hakyeon’s.

**Author's Note:**

> C & W, my dearest girls, I love you both. Creating and writing this have been a great pleasure. I'm forever grateful <3


End file.
